


Never Lost

by cathymee



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 14:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20229457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathymee/pseuds/cathymee
Summary: Samwise Gamgee promised to protect Frodo Baggins.





	Never Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Please don't kill me.
> 
> My native language isn't English. Sorry if there's any grammatical and/or spelling errors.
> 
> And I don't own Lord of the Rings. I just borrowed the characters for a bit. They all belong to the brilliant author, J.R.R. Tolkien. Sadly, I'm not him. :<
> 
> Please enjoy!

> _I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. A promise! Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee. And I don't mean to. I don't mean to._

Samwise Gamgee had admired Frodo Baggins more than he thought he had. Mr. Bilbo had taught him about Elves when he was only a wee child, whenever his Gaffer would drag him along to Bag End. Pointy ears, fair skin, and eyes that shone with brilliance.

It seems so unbelievable. Because if they exist, then how tall they were? Could they be so tall that when they stretch their hands up in the sky, they could reach the clouds and capture the birds? Could they reach the Sun herself? '_Impossible_,' said his Gaffer, but young Samwise could also see the curiosity in his dear father's eyes, but he remained silent. (He spent his weeks wondering, of course, furrowing his brows and placing his head on his hands, deep in thought about the things that his mind could not comprehend yet. Bell Gamgee had looked at her husband with a soft smile and ruffled her son's hair with such love and fondness.)

"Master Frodo Baggins." His Gaffer had uttered the name with delight. Mr. Bilbo's cousin. (Fair as Elves. With a big heart but with deep sadness embedded in his eyes amidst his seemingly never-ending enthusiasm.)

He saw the drawing before his Gaffer did. He had seen a book on the floor, and he had went to Mr. Bilbo's room to return it.

And in the crumpled paper, there was a beautiful face that had captured his eyes and his curiosity. But the eyes. Ah, yes. He could never forget his eyes. Bluer than the water in the Brandywine River. Bluer than his own crayon that came as a gift for him from Mr. Bilbo. Bluer than the sky.

(And if the Elves' hands can't reach the sky, maybe Mr. Frodo's eyes can.)

(And perhaps his heart was captured, too.)

When the blue eyes captured his brown ones, he froze. He could not read the emotions that was abruptly present, for there were too many. But when Mr. Frodo smiled, he smiled back, as if they had met before.

The last time his eyes shone was when he saw Merry and Pippin straddling Boromir, swords forgotten on the ground. Sam had never seen him smile as bright as that ever since Mr. Bilbo left. But he had cherished the smile before it was gone, but he did not smile back.

And so here they are.

Mordor.

One more step and they're finally done.

And Mr. Frodo would succeed, and they would return to the Shire again.

Sam climbed the last steps and followed his master.

_Hot_. He felt his skin burning, as if the fire below had touched his body.

And– where's Mr. Frodo?

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam yelled, seeing nothing but smoke and red and rocks and—

"I'm here, Sam."

And there was Mr. Frodo, a huge cut on his cheek, mud and dirt and grime on his once fair face. And his outstretched hand held the Ring.

"What are you waiting for!?" he yelled, desperation in his voice. "Let it go!"

Frodo turned around, his back on him.

"The Ring is mine."

Sam felt his body froze (like how it did when Mr. Frodo smiled at him for the first time), looking at his eyes (the same eyes that had looked at him with kindness ever since he had met him)— full of menace and... unlike... it wasn't...

It wasn't Mr. Frodo.

He came back to consciousnesses as soon as he had left it. Seeing Mr. Frodo and Stinker fight over the cursed Ring— the reason for all of this. And he could not move.

He could not.

"Don't you let go!" Sam remembered holding his hand, screeching the words as Frodo looked at him with hopelessness and exhaustion. Frodo's hand was slipping, and Sam could not— _would_ _not_— let it slip.

Another hand had snatched up his arm, and Sam gathered his strength and pulled it up with a fierce growl, and Mr. Frodo was going up, not down, and Sam felt his heart swell with love.

He had been conscious whilst Mr. Frodo's head lay on his arms, trying to ignore the fire that surrounded them, focusing more on the blue eyes that fought to cling to his brown ones. And he could see that his master was _trying_— trying not to leave the world he saved behind and instead let his blue eyes _shine_ and Sam clung to it because he _promised_ _to_ _never_ _let_ _him_ _go_.

But Sam felt it before it came.

And he didn't see the flying creatures because he's too busy sobbing. He sobbed endless "please come back please _please_ come back _for your Sam_" and doesn't even try to stop even though unconsciousness claimed him once again.

A few moments later, he had regained his consciousness (and wished he hadn't.) He didn't speak, nor even tried to look Gandalf in the eye. He was too focused on the limp form that Strider was holding, oblivious to the intensity of Sam's stare as he tried to call Frodo out of Death's door.

And minutes later, he tried to stand up and tell Strider to go on and continue and he can't stop because _he_ _should_ _not_ _be_ _giving_ _up_ _on_ _his_ _master_. He heard the words— too far gone, can't call him, lost in the depth of Death's—

Sam had stopped listening.

Legolas and Gimli had looked at him with relief.

He had locked his eyes with the Elf that Frodo—

Sam stopped.

Stopped thinking of blue and brown and— _he_ _ain't_ _coming_ _back_, _you fool_.

Samwise Gamgee hates funerals. Aye, he does. Everyone were wearing dull colors and what were they thinking, wearing that to the funeral of his master?

He needs to stand at the front along with Merry and Pippin and Strider, and he swore there are times that he felt like his legs would turn to jelly. Thousands of people wept and cried, as though they know him like he does. Sam doesn't hold back his scowl.

He didn't cry. Merry, Pippin, and the others do. He didn't go near the coffin. Didn't want to see him, pale and lifeless. He'd prefer seeing Frodo as who he is— lively, wise, and bright.

(But he knew there are no more blue and brown and gentle smiles.)

Samwise Gamgee wishes he could stay in Minas Tirith with Frodo. He could never return to the Shire with a big lump in his throat, a torn, shredded heart, and a clouded mind. (He could never return without his master.)

He had looked up to Strider with pleading eyes, but all he got was an apologetic smile and a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, and many "_it'll_ _be_ _alright_" from the Fellowship, and from Lady Arwen herself.

(_No_, he snapped, _it wouldn't be alright, because it would only be if Mr. Frodo is here_.)

And so he's going, anyway. After many months of healing (just physically, Sam wanted to add), they had to go and head back, and pretend that it never happened (not that anyone would believe them.) He had looked at Gandalf with foolish hope, asking if he could bring Frodo back—

But the wizard shook his head and looked at him with a sad smile.

There are nightmares, too. Ones where he could see Frodo glowing like he truly did, with mirth and joy that pushed off the sadness that always lingered in his eyes whenever he got lost on the world in his mind, and Sam would always be there, watching as the Shire changed from the green and peaceful, to black and fire. And he could see himself holding Mr. Frodo, trying to bring him up, but then he had no idea what happened for all he knew that Mr. Frodo was going down and _he_ _can't_ _go_ _down_ and _he_ _had_ _to_ _save_ _him_ _hold_ _on_ _please_—

And he would wake up whenever Mr. Frodo would stand in front of him, his skin burnt, his eyes closed, but with tears flowing. And when he opened his eyes Sam would always flinch. There's pure hatred in them, his once kind gaze turning into an accusing one. And Mr. Frodo would open his parched mouth slowly, and look Sam straight in the eye. "_I_ _thought_ _you_ _weren't_ _going_ _to_ _lose_ _me_?"

And Sam would always stare straight ahead, not even aware of his surrounding, because _yes_, he promised to never lose him, and _he_ _didn't_ _mean_ _to_.

Sam was 97 when he wonders if that was what Frodo would've thought when he lied there in Samwise's arms.

He lied in his bed, with only Elanor and young Frodo hovering over him. And as he stared at the window, he saw blue and brown and a gentle smile. He could see his hands, no longer maimed, no longer missing a finger, but complete and soft and it was reaching out to him. He wonders if Frodo had seen it before, maybe the hands of his parents, or perhaps it was just him. He heard his children's sobs and maybe the frantic calling of the young healer that was present in his room, but he could care no longer, for he was holding Mr. Frodo's hand again, and maybe it would be alright.

* * *

Samwise Gamgee is twenty-four years old and doesn't know anyone called 'Frodo Baggins'. He does not expect a stick to hit the back of his head and he does not expect his heart to race when he land his eyes on curly, brown hair and blue eyes. A hobbit stood in front of him, a hand on his mouth as he bowed and helped Sam to his feet. Sam muttered a "it's fine" and the other hobbit stood in front of him again. "I am terribly sorry," He looked sincere, to the point that Sam could feel his heart doing weird "_flippity-flops_" inside his chest. The hobbit then smiled up at him, and extended a hand for Sam to shake. "I'm Frodo Baggins, at your service and your family's."

Sam looked at the hand in confusion, then slowly held it on his own. The other hobbit gave it a firm shake as he continued to grin up at the other lad. "S-Samwise Gamgee." He said simply. Frodo stared at him in delight and opened his mouth as if to say something else, but a fellow lad had yelled his name and beckoned him to come and play again. The brown-haired boy smiled again at Sam, and walked back.

Sam collapsed to his bed and clutched his heart.

(and he swore it was stolen in a flash of blue and brown.)

Samwise Gamgee is twenty-four years old and he met someone called "Frodo Baggins". To be honest, Sam could never think someone like him could exist. Kind, polite, witty, quiet and somehow... sad. Sam found himself reaching out to touch his hand every time Frodo's blue eyes dulled (and to his surprise, the blue eyes became less dim whenever Sam planted his hands on the soft skin of his new-found friend.)

They're neighbors. Oddly enough, their smials are closer than any other smials that surrounded Bag End, and Sam wondered how they could've not met any sooner. Of course, maybe it was because of his strict (but kind) Uncle Bilbo, but maybe it was because Sam wasn't as outgoing as Frodo was. He admit, he liked staying in the garden, tending to the flowers and plants that needed care and attention, and Sam's hands wouldn't be a necessary thing if it's not going to attend to Yavanna's creations. But now, as he walked side by side with Frodo, with the other lad talking excitedly about Elves that he learned from Bilbo, Sam smiled contentedly, and listened.

Frodo is brown and blue and he is gentle—

Sam stops.

He ignored Frodo for the next three days.

On the fourth day, Sam wondered if Frodo would come to the smial and excuse him from his Gaffer. He didn't.

Sam waited until it was afternoon tea, but there was no soft "Can I please see Sam, Master Gamgee?" or "Sam! I've met an elf in my dream once again!" and so there's no "At least give me a minute, Frodo!" or "Really!? Tell me about it!".

'Oh, well.' Samwise thought as he looked out the window after supper. 'There's still tomorrow.'

Tomorrow comes and Sam found himself sitting on a bench, watering his plants, waiting for a familiar hobbit to come bouncing in with a book in hand. No one came.

The day after tomorrow comes but Sam still spent his afternoon tending to his plants with no blue-eyed hobbit dragging him to the forest to search for "peculiar" creatures.

And the next day.

And the next day.

And the next day.

And the next day he asked himself if he ever taught Frodo how to climb on a tree properly without hitting your head on a rock as you climb down.

* * *

Samwise Gamgee is a twenty-three-year-old man and is the tutor of a sixteen-year-old lad Frodo Baggins. The first time that Frodo finally completed his archery class, Sam promised to take the boy out for some free ice cream. When he sees that a large branch fell off a tree and Frodo continued to walk, Sam pulled him back and held his student close.

"Are you okay!?" He was anxious.

"I-I'm sorr—"

"No, no, don't apologize." Sam sighed. He helped Frodo to his feet <strike>and wished he could wipe the fear from Frodo's blue</strike> <strike>eyes</strike>. They continued on.

He wakes up to the sound of his colleague, Merry, frantically waking him up with a hard shake on his shoulders.

_Bilbo_.

_Healers_.

_Frodo._

_Lotho._

_Daggers_.

He ran, and already knew he was too late.

(He lost him, and he didn't mean to.)

* * *

Samwise Gamgee is a thirty-seven year old ranger and had fallen for an Elf named Iorhael. He likes to call him Frodo or Maura, anyway.

They have been a... _thing _... for two years now, with Frodo refusing to acknowledge his father's disapproval, his siblings' insistence of staying and waiting for the day when he could finally sail away, and Sam's bathing on the support of his family. Sam is happy. Frodo is happy. He's gentle.

They have been loving each other for two years now. Two years of playful insults, uncertain fights, passionate kisses, warm hugs, sneaking out camps, and expertly avoiding guards. Two years of feeling love.

The stars are glowing brighter this night. Of course Frodo wouldn't want to miss the chance of seeing it. And of course they forgot their basket that contained food. The Elf looked up at Sam and said that he stay still and he'll get it and come back. Sam reaches out and held Frodo's delicate hand and pulled him back down gently. "I'll go."

"But—"

"No buts." Sam chuckled, and laid Frodo back down to the thick blanket that they had placed down to watch the stars (and perhaps do _something_ underneath those stars), and planted a kiss on Frodo's temples.

(_He's learned his lesson_)

He is on his way back (and regretted the fact that their camp was so far) when he heard a scream. His heart froze. His body didn't, though, for his legs moved involuntarily to where the scream was.

(_many many many times_)

"FRODO!"

(_is it not enough_?)

* * *

Samwise Gamgee is a thirty-three-year-old healer. A group of thugs from Bree had attacked innocent hobbits that had decided to wander outside the borders of the Shire. Other healers had carted in another person and he sees brown and blue and wiped-out gentleness and he tried to look away but—

He takes the boy's clipboard from Narcissa Took and wrote the time of his death.

* * *

Samwise Gamgee is thirty-nine years old and he is thankful because he has no idea who Frodo Baggins is.

"**_MOVE AWAY!_**"

He is pushed out of the way and he heard a sword pierce a flesh.

(blue and brown and no more gentleness)

* * *

Samwise Gamgee is six-years-old when his Ma introduces him to five-year-old Frodo Baggins, their new neighbor. Sam said 'hello' when Frodo did and he ran back inside their smial and locked his room and hugged his pillows.

He grew up having Frodo Baggins as a mere memory.

* * *

Samwise Gamgee is twenty-seven years old and he is tired of everything.

He runs away from brown and blue. He's safe. He should be safe.

He dreams of Frodo and sometimes he sees someone else with him. It hurts but he deserved the pain. He wants Frodo to be gentle but if he can without him then it's okay.

The next day, he finds out that Frodo is working near his smial, having business near his farm. He goes there after a day of work and there is a different hobbit behind the cart. He asks about the hobbit he anticipated to see and he describes him perfectly because _of_ _course_ he would _always_ describe him perfectly because he _is_ perfect and his heart cracked when the lad shook his head sadly with grief.

* * *

Samwise Gamgee is seventeen-years-old and he decided to never fall in love with Frodo Baggins.

(Of course he still did.)

He found his heart breaking when he sees the sad smile on Frodo's face after he said '_no_'.

He finds himself breaking when he doesn't see him again.

* * *

Samwise Gamgee is a twenty-one-year-old hobbit when Frodo Baggins confessed to him. He is about to reject him when Frodo gently asked, "Why do you do that to yourself?"

Samwise is surprised because out of all the times that he had met Frodo, this is the first time that he has asked him that.

"...Do what?"

"_That_!" Frodo hollered, uncharacteristically. "Ever since we've met you've been acting like it's the last time you'll ever see me and you're trying to bid me farewell!" Sam stopped. "Maybe it is."

"What?" Frodo seems confused.

"Maybe it is," Sam repeated simply. "Maybe it is the last time. You'll never know "

"What, and you do!?"

"No, I don't!"

"Wh—"

"And that's what's _killing_ me!" Sam stared at him. Frodo stared back. Sam muttered a "_that's that_" and turned away.

"You ninnyhammer." Sam felt Frodo wince at his own choice of words. Sam turned back and glared at him (and it's breaking him more than Frodo could ever know). "What did you say?"

"I said you're a ninnyhammer."

"A nin—"

"Yes. A ninnyhammer. Gaffer called you that more than I could count. I have the rights to call you that, too."

"Begging your pardon, but you're too nice to do that to me."

"Oh, I already did. Twice."

Sam sighed. He's too, too tired.

"Let's say that today is the last time." Frodo stepped forward. "I also don't know if it is. But I do not want to live the rest of my life saying _farewell_. If today is the last time, you know what would be good, Sam?" Frodo paused for a bit, then reaches up to cup Sam's cheeks. "If today is the last time, I'd rather we make it a '_hullo_' we'll never regret instead of a '_farewell_'."

And so they do.

The 'last time' still comes.

It comes in the form of an incurable sickness, the 'Plague' as the Shire had called it, and Sam is not sure if this is better than fire or sharp daggers. He stays beside Frodo even though his brown is dull and his blue's glow threatened to leave. This time, Sam allows himself to hope again. But the end still comes.

"H-Hullo, Sam."

His voice is so weak and even the blues are threatening to leave him then and there. Sam tightens his grip on Frodo's cold hands. He doesn't cry. He shouldn't cry. Because Frodo's _smiling_, not crying, so he won't cry. He won't.

"Hullo, Frodo."

(And he is still gentle.)

Sam attends Frodo's funeral.

* * *

Samwise Gamgee is a thirty-seven-year-old Hobbit and is a part of the Fellowship of the Ring and promised to protect fifty-year-old Frodo Baggins.

Samwise Gamgee had admired Frodo Baggins more than he thought he had. Mr. Bilbo had taught him about Elves when he was only a wee child, whenever his Gaffer would drag him along to Bag End. Pointy ears, fair skin, and eyes that shone with brilliance. It seems so unbelievable. Because if they exist, then how tall they were? Could they be so tall that when they stretch their hands up in the sky, they could reach the clouds and capture the birds? Could they reach the Sun herself? 'Impossible,' said his Gaffer, but young Samwise could also see the curiosity in his dear father's eyes, but he remained silenced. (He spent his weeks wondering, of course, furrowing his brows and placing his head on his hands, deep in thought about the things that his mind could not comprehend yet. Bell Gamgee had looked at her husband with a soft smile and ruffled her son's hair with such love and fondness.)

It scares him that everything is going bad again. It scares him that today Mordor fell down once again as he sees Frodo clutching back to him and never let go.

(He feels his gentleness and he feels the brown and blues.)

And now he lay cradled on Sam's arms once again, and Samwise Gamgee is so, so scared.

"Mr. Frodo?"

Sam is scared because Mr. Frodo's eyes didn't open not again _please_ _no_ _no_ _I can't lose you_—

"Hullo, Sam."

(And he sees brown and blue and brown and blue)

His heart flutters at the sight of Frodo opening his eyes, smiling amidst the dryness of his lips.

(and Frodo's gentle.)

"Hullo."

"Are you still going to never lose me?"

"If I lost you, just know that I don't mean to, Mr. Frodo."

Samwise Gamgee is thirty-seven years old and is a part of the Fellowship of the Ring and promised to protect Frodo Baggins.

Samwise Gamgee is one-hundred-one years old when he sailed away to meet one-hundred-and-fifteen years old Frodo Baggins.

Samwise Gamgee is one-hundred-and-twenty years old when he whispers 'hello', is thirty-seven years old again and promised to never lose Frodo Baggins.


End file.
